Five Minutes to Midnight
by sensatsu
Summary: L thought he had put him away for good, but now he's back, and he has taken the only thing L ever truly wanted for himself...
1. In the Dark of the Night

Title: Five Minutes to Midnight

Pairings: L/Near, B/Near (non-consensual)

Rating: M (for graphic violence, rape, and yaoi smut...)

Genre: Romance/Drama

Summary: L thought he had put him away for good, but now he's back, and he has taken the only thing L ever truly wanted for himself...

Chapter One: In the Dark of the Night

A lone figure crept toward the orphanage known as Wammy's House, the home of the most intelligent orphaned children in the world. There were no lights on within the large house, but the man kept to the shadows nonetheless...he could not afford being seen on such an important mission. As he drew closer to the mansion, he wondered silently to himself how he would find the first successor. _Surely, _he thought,_ it will not be easy._ He had been told through his source in London that the boy was "unique" in his appearance, and in his attitude toward others. He had also been informed that, as far as appearance went, the lad was said to resemble L just a little. _Hahaha...how very funny. Perhaps I am looking for my twin, hm?_ The dark-haired man _did _look quite a bit like L, save his dark ruby-colored eyes. He had even dressed appropriately for this occasion, mimicking the white shirt and jeans he had always seen his look-alike wear, and even donning an old, ratty pair of tennis shoes. If one did not stare directly into his eyes, he could perhaps fool them for a moment into thinking that he was the great detective himself. He slipped ever closer to the open first-floor window which was his seemingly elusive target. Finally, he reached it, and crawled gracefully through to the other side, careful not to leave any trace of his presence.

He hurried down the stone corridor, steps as silent as the deadly serpent that lays in wait to make its strike. No sound emanated from him, no sidelong glances to indicate nervousness or a sense of insecurity. He had come prepared, that is certain. Prepared over many long nights, conditioning himself and bringing himself all the more closer to his goal. The successor. L's only possession that truly mattered anything. He remembered the day that he had found out about this precious gem, the same day he had formulated his plot to snatch it quickly away from his nemesis.

–Begin Flashback–

A single fluorescent bulb illuminated the otherwise pitch black interrogation room, shining upon the only furniture within the space, a small metal table and two rather uncomfortable-looking chairs, one with arms that were presumably for the use of handcuffs. A sallow, dark-haired man was led bound into the room, and sat in the chair opposite the door, handcuffs fastened tightly to the arms, and also to his wrists. After the guards left, it only took about five minutes for another man to enter the room and take the seat opposite his suspect. This man was identical to the other, save for his black, mirror-like eyes and notably strange posture. This detective, L, stared into the ruby eyes of the killer (for, 'alleged suspect' or no, he knew that this man was guilty), and waited for what seemed like an eternity before speaking.

"Why?"

Crimson eyes stared back at the detective, a mischievous light within them.

"...What means the most to you, L?"

"You have no right to ask me anything."

"But, I need your answer to dictate my own."

The detective sighed, placing his hands upon his knees and not saying a word, but still staring at the criminal.

"You cannot do this forever. Being L, I mean. This cat-and-mouse lifestyle you are so accustomed to will have to end someday. You shall grow old, wither, and you will need to cease being who you are. ...What will become of the great L? Not you, I'm not all that concerned over your retirement plans, but who is there who can carry on as you have? Or will you allow the world to be overrun with criminals and derelicts?"

The detective continued to stare at him with those owl-eyes, no expression clouding his features. However, was that a spark of anger in his eye? Fear, perhaps?

"...My mortality has nothing to do with this situation."

The blank expression had returned to its flawless state. Ruby eyes brightened, a smirk appearing upon the pale face of the accused.

"Oh, but it does..." _You don't know how much your mortality really does change this situation, L...and here I had thought you would be a bit more of an enigma. Tsk, tsk._

The suspect, no, the cold-blooded killer, continued to evade L until the bitter end of their "interrogation". In the end, he simply confessed...yes, he had killed all those people...and he did not regret it one bit.

The man, who went by the alias of BB, or Beyond Birthday, was sent to prison for life.

–End Flashback–

Yet here he was...his single connection in the States had proven most useful in getting him out of the little predicament L had placed him in, and his informant from London had not disappointed, either. He had, in fact, located L's successor, after all. B noticed that all the children were in their rooms, doors shut tightly and lights off. He did not have time to try each door–he would just have to look for an abnormality. This was not going to be easy, as the house was expansive and filled to its limit with children of the highest academic skill. He continued down the corridors, making his way through the labyrinth to try and find the boy he sought. Door after darkened door he passed, and he was slightly concerned, though not perturbed, that he might not be able to find the child in one evening. That would mean returning to the scene of the crime, which was most definitely impossible, and downright dangerous when a great mind like L was involved. Just as he thought his luck was turned for the worse this evening, he turned a corner to find a softly lighted doorway. _Perfect. _He inched up to the door and peered inside. It was a playroom of sorts, and it was not exactly busy at this time of night. In fact, there was only one child inside, and B had a feeling, deep in his stomach, that this was the one he was looking for. The boy had wavy white hair, which he twirled with his right forefinger and thumb, and wore white pajamas and socks. He appeared to be about twelve, fairly short and very slim. Yes, this was the one, B was sure of it. He knew it had to be abnormal to have pristine white hair when one was so young. So, he strolled casually into the room, not forgetting to slouch and shuffle along like the detective he was portraying.

"Hello L." The child did not look up from his puzzle, but simply greeted him without a glance. This, B thought, suggested a form of closeness between the boy and L...how odd. He didn't think L could get close to anyone. However, if there was anyone L would need or want to become close to, it would be his successor.

"Hello." He did not know the boy's name, and this would have to be corrected soon. He walked to the other side of the room, into the shadows, and picked up a toy robot that appeared to have been hand-painted with great dexterity and skill. On the sole of the robot's left foot was painted in tiny letters the word "Near". _Hm...this could do._ He held the robot aloft and looked to the white-haired boy, who now stared back at him with black mirror-like eyes. _Heheh...he even has the look of L. One would almost suspect they were related, if not for the fact of this being an orphanage._

"This is yours, I presume?" He hoped that he was right...it would make his job quite a bit easier, and would keep him within the time frame he had given to the driver at the street.

"Of course." The boy's gaze went back to his puzzle, which was entirely white with a small black "L" in the corner. The same "L" that the detective used to identify himself. _That's enough to seal the deal, one should think._

"Near...come with me." He walked to the door, listening as the boy hesitated before rising to his feet. He led the child down through the corridors, back the way he came, and, having passed up the room which he had entered from, finally came to the kitchen of the orphanage. B walked to the door, motioning behind him for Near to follow, and twisted the knob gingerly. Giving the door a light push, he walked out onto the grassy lawn which he had crept across minutes ago. The boy behind him had stopped at the door. B turned, looking at the boy with his face in shadow, hoping the lad had not noticed his ruby eyes any time previous. Instead, the child was looking at his shoes, or lack thereof.

"If we're going outside, I will have to put on shoes.." B strode over to the door once again, reaching out his hands to the boy and hoisting him up into his arms like a package.

"That's alright. I will carry you...it's not far." He smiled softly at the small, warm body pressed up against him, and walked a bit more quickly across the lawn and into the line of trees that edged the property.

When they reached the road, he noticed that Near had almost fallen asleep. The boy's face was nuzzled into his neck, his hands clutching gently at the fabric of his shirt. B smiled, opening the door to the automobile and sliding in, Near still laying in his lap. He gently stroked the porcelain face, admiring the softness of the skin there. _Yes...this one will be fun to break. Slowly, painfully...and there will be blood._ He returned from his macabre musings only when the driver signaled that they were at their destination. He stood, exiting the car and making his way around to the driver's window to supposedly pay him his fee. He fingered the knife in his jeans pocket, but chose not to spill any blood this evening...he would save that for the boy in his arms. He paid the driver, very well in fact, and made his way up to the large apartment building, one of many identical buildings in this dark part of London. He climbed the shadowed stairs, finally coming to the door of his own temporary abode, purchased specifically for this heist. He used his key, and entered the simple three-room apartment with a bedroom, kitchen, and large living area. It was sparsely furnished, to say the least. There was a bed in the tiny bedroom off to the left, and the kitchen had absolutely nothing to offer in lieu of nutrition of any kind, unless you counted strawberry jam as being overly nutritious. The living area in the front of the apartment, however, had been a bit more cared for, and was set up to its current owner's standards, and needs. In the center of the room, far away from any window, there was a place for a lighting fixture. This, however, had been removed and was replaced with an odd chain that glinted somewhat maliciously. The end of the chain was a simple loop, small yet large enough that anything smaller than a human fist could pass through. Through this loop B had strung a set of handcuffs, also glinting along with their friend and neighbor, the chain. These were left open.

In front of this setup was a small laptop computer, with a tiny eye-like contraption attached to the top. The computer was off, as was the eye, and they rested quietly in this dark room. B smiled down at his simple apparatus, the key to all his fun. Beside the computer sat a few tools of the trade: a knife, some rope, and some pieces of paper which contained his ideas and useful information. There also sat a small straight razor, away from all the rest. This was, by far, his favorite tool, his pride and joy. It was a souvenir of his first victim's, and he cherished it above most other things in life.

B debated in his mind on where to put the boy. On the bed, or in the little apparatus he'd set up in the front room?... It was a tough decision. On one hand, he almost wanted the boy to get a good rest before he was tortured. _The more awake they are, the more fun it is..._ On the other hand, he did not want to waste time, and did not know how much the boy knew of self-defense, so he did not want to wait until the lad was awake. His decision made, and wanting to minimize the risks involved with his project, he pulled at the wrists of the child and slowly placed them into the metal cuffs. He let the boy down gently, gradually allowing his thin wrists to support his own weight. When hanging free of B's grasp, Near was almost ten inches from touching the ground. _Well...someone's going to be sore in the morning._ B walked into the kitchen and grabbed a jar of his jam, and trotted off to the bedroom to sleep. Today had been a productive one, and he would need a lot of energy to carry out tomorrow's plans.

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A/N: Yeah...that would be the first chapter of my first fan fiction story involving angst. XD Oh, it is so strange and lovely. Well, tell me what you think in a review. No flames, please...I am an emo kid, and you know we can't handle that sort of criticism. (That was a joke. Thanks, thanks...I'll be here all week.) I hope to have the second chapter up soon, and...this could prove to be a pretty long story. Yay. Also, ALERT: I am in dire need of a beta reader, so please, if you've any love for this story at all and have a bit of experience, tell me in your review, or in a personal message. Thank you very much. Until next time...farewell. (Also a side-note...if you have any idea for a better name for this story, please do tell me...I couldn't think of anything, so I just put the name of the song I was currently listening to. XD)


	2. The Plot and the Plaything

Chapter Two: The Plot and the Plaything

–Near's POV–

He woke to pain. Much pain in his wrists and arms. His waking thoughts were becoming overwhelmed with this aching, and he opened his eyes slowly to nothing but black. He couldn't see a thing, it was too dark, and he was slightly concerned. _Where has L taken me? And, why is it that I cannot move my arms? And...this pain..._ Near looked about, his eyes getting adjusted to the minimal light in the room. He could now make out a door on the far side of this area, and another two doors off to his right. He tilted his head upward, and could make out the metal surrounding his wrists, and the chain that connected each ring. Handcuffs...he was bound. _Why...why would he do this to me? Did I do something wrong? Is it a test? What is this?_ He lowered his head again, grimacing at the intense ache in his shoulders, when he heard footsteps coming from one of the doors on the right.

"L? ...L?!" Near asked, watching the man shuffle ever closer, his head lowered. He didn't seem to care that Near was in pain...that was odd. L had always tried to protect Near, this was backwards, and Near was starting to get a bit agitated, almost afraid. He beat away the fear, and stared at the detective. Once the man was close enough to view without shadows, Near could not help but gasp. This...this was not L. L didn't look like this. Sure, L was eccentric, and he was most definitely unusual, but he wasn't lunatic. He didn't have a malicious smile, a maddened gleam in his...red eyes.

L did not have red eyes.

Near kept his face stoic, not showing any emotion. He would not give this madman any sick satisfaction of knowing that he was now terribly afraid. He would not lose...he was first for a reason, after all. He could now see a laptop computer sitting on the floor, and atop that something that appeared to be a camera. This situation was getting more and more insane, and more dangerous. He then spied the items beside the computer, and his eyes widened just a bit, though his expression remained still. _Is that...a knife? _He also took note of the rope, and the papers, and something else metal, and flat. Whatever it was, Near was sure it would be sharp. The red-eyed man walked right to him, smiling as though he was greeting an old friend.

"Now, before we get started, I need to ask you a few questions. Your level of cooperation will, of course, have a hand in determining your fate."

Near scowled, then nodded. If he wanted cooperation, Near would give it to him. He had to survive...that was all that mattered now. He wanted to live...to return to the orphanage...to see L again. Near almost flushed at this thought process he was having, and brought his mind back to the present situation.

"Good. Now...what is your name?"

"...Near."

"Good...had to make sure you weren't going to just answer with anything now..okay. Let's move on. What's your age?"

"I am fourteen."

"My, my...you look too small to be a teenager. Or perhaps you're just scrawny. Alright...you are the successor to the title of L. Correct?"

Near debated on whether or not he should answer this question. If the man was trying to hurt L, and Near told him yes, he might kill him to get to L. If the man wanted something from L, and Near told him yes, he might spare his life to get what he desired. Either way, Near didn't think that the man would have taken such great risks if he was not ninety-nine percent sure he was the successor, so he had no real choice but to answer, and to do so correctly.

"Yes."

"Very good...now, what do you know about him?"

This question was a bit unexpected, and Near didn't truly know how to answer. Instead of naming things he knew about the great L, tidbits of information that the man could use against the detective, Near chose a vaguely true answer.

"I don't know much about him at all...no one does."

The man frowned at him, crossing the small distance between them and speaking in a low, malicious tone, their faces merely inches apart.

"So, what is your relationship to L?"

Near was taken aback by this question. He didn't want to answer. The truthful response was that he was only L's successor, looked to only to fulfill his duties as such. What Near wanted to say was certainly not true, a taboo among everyone he had ever known. He lowered his head and sighed, giving the true answer, the right answer, and the answer he hated.

"I am merely a tool to take his place one day, when I am needed."

–B's POV–

He stared at the boy, watching his reaction to the last question. _My, how very interesting you have become, Near..._ B could tell that Near was disappointed in his own answer, meaning that he wished it was not the truth. And, judging by that tiny spark in his eye just before he answered, he could also intuit that the boy held a strong fondness for the detective, to say the least. Perhaps that was why he fell asleep so easily the night before, "safe" in B's arms. The killer almost laughed at this thought, and its immense distance from the truth. The boy hadn't been safe since the moment B had laid eyes on him. He walked toward Near, running a hand down the boy's face and watching his eyes widen slightly in surprise. B leaned in close to the pale face, practically breathing his words into the child's ear. "You might actually enjoy my little game, Near...you know the only way you'll survive is if he can find you in time. I guess we can only hope he feels as strongly for you as you feel for him..." He moved away, approaching the laptop with a smile on his face. This was going to be so much fun. B turned around now, standing behind the computer, and stared at Near. The boy's face was slightly pink, probably from embarrassment at his secret being revealed. _Tsk, tsk, Near...how did you expect to keep anything from me? I will know you better than you do by the time we are finished...I will break you to pieces._

"Okay, let's get a few ground rules laid out. What we are doing is recording video messages. I have a set time limit for each message, and a specific bit of information for each as well. So, how we will be doing this is that I will turn on the computer, begin the video, and walk around to stand close to you. You will not resist anything that I do to you, though you may say what you wish during each message. I will not stop you...that's half the fun of it. Things are so much better when left unscripted, don't you think?" He grinned widely, a crazed gleam in his crimson eyes, and knelt behind the computer, pressing the button that read 'Record' before picking up a tool of choice and walking back to stand by his pretty little victim...

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A/N: Yes, I do realize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the last one, however, there is good reason for its lack in length. I am attempting to create the correct atmosphere for this story, so I have been posting up bits and pieces that can make sense as being one chapter. (Originally, chapters one and two, plus even more of the story, were going to be a single chapter. For me, that will not do...I prefer medium-length chapters, and many of them. It makes you want to read more.)

Also, I would like to thank my reviewers for the last chapter, and all those who read it as well. I do hope you enjoyed your glimpse at the inner workings of my sick and twisted mind. Hahaha. Well, until next chapter...so long.


	3. The Detective

Chapter Three - The Detective

–L's POV–

He had received the call at four in the morning, and had dropped everything to rush to London. There was a problem at Wammy's, and they would need L to solve it.

Near was gone.

Not just missing, off in some far corner of the orphanage playing with his new favorite toy, Optimus Prime. Not sleeping in his Lego fort, away from all the children. Not even running away to find L himself. Gone. Completely...and it had L worried sick. When he was told by a very distraught Roger, he did not fully believe it. Or perhaps he just did not want to. In any case, he was now discussing with Watari all the possible culprits to commit this heinous crime. There was no way it could have been coincidence–Wammy's was unknown to everyone except personal contacts of L, and of course Watari. No one else even knew it existed, so no one would dare breach its security and steal a child–no, not just any child, the successor to the name of L–in the middle of the night. This was someone who wanted revenge upon the detective, L was sure of it. He had been contacting prisons and holding facilities all morning, trying his hardest to make sure every one of his previous enemies were being safely kept within their cells. So far, they had all been confirmed as secure.

That is, until he called the States.

That one prison, that one killer, that one case...why did it have to be this one? L lowered his head in exasperation, attempting not to give in to his desire to throw the phone out the car's window. That would not be wise. His hand clutched the arm rest, nearly shaking with frustration, worry, and...sadness. An immense blanket of sadness had descended on the detective, and it was suffocating him under its weight. He truly cared about Near...probably more than he should, by all societal standards. Most would consider his attraction to the boy an extreme taboo, but no one was aware of the situation save Watari. L politely told the warden at the prison to go to hell, and laid his head back against the head rest, dropping the phone to the floor of the car. The elder gentleman driving looked at him with pity, and asked the question that L did not want to answer right now.

"How long would you guess the boy has?"

The detective stared at his friend–for the old man had always been like a friend to L, a guardian, a helper, and even a chauffeur when needed. His look was pained, the hint of a tear at a corner of his usually dry eyes. "I...don't know." That was what hurt L the most–he didn't know how long Near could last in this horrible creature's clutches. He was afraid, for once in his life, not for himself but for the only person in the world he had ever truly loved. L sat back in his seat, reminiscing over how all these feelings came to be.

–Begin Flashback–

It was his first time returning to Wammy's House after his own stay there. He would not have come back at all, but Watari had insisted, stating that he had "a few persons of interest" that L ought to at least meet. So, it was with great hesitance that young L Lawliet, a detective of growing renown known only as "L", climbed the steps of the orphanage and followed his guardian through the large oak front doors. He looked around with his dark eyes at the all-too familiar territory of this house, glancing momentarily as a few children ran across the front hall and through one of the many doors throughout the room. L walked silently by Watari's side, wondering when he would see these so-called "persons of interest". All of a sudden, something small and white caught his eye from the far corner of the hallway. It moved slowly, shuffling along and clutching a toy in its arms. It was a boy, notably the oddest child L had ever seen. He could not have been ten years old, and yet his hair was as purely white as snow. The lad's skin was white as well, as were the pajamas and socks he wore. Something about this child...L found himself pulled toward the boy, so very alluring his image seemed. The detective was almost certain that the perfect little being was a creation of his occasionally overactive imagination, and would have remained frozen in his tracks longer, but for Watari calling his name from farther down the hall. At the sound, the little white-haired one glanced up from his toy and locked eyes with the older male. Suddenly, L found that breathing was marginally difficult, and his mind wandered in a thousand directions as he stared into the black depths that stared at him with such admiration and wonder. Finally, Watari returned and pulled gently on his sleeve to start his movement toward Roger's office. L resisted the urge to look back, and followed placidly behind the old man.

Time passed, and they had been sitting in Roger's office for well over twenty minutes before the elderly gentleman graced them with his presence. L sat back in his chair, legs tucked close to his chest while he listened to what the manager of this orphanage had to say.

"Ahem. My apologies, Watari, L, that you had to wait for so long. I was attempting to restore a bit of order in the house." The man's brow furrowed, stress obvious in his features. Apparently taking care of infant geniuses could be quite difficult.

"Think nothing of it," Watari said calmly, glancing first at L, then back to Roger. "However, now that you're here...where are the two boys I requested we meet with today? They are your very best, I gathered?"

Roger simply nodded, and as if by cue a knock sounded at the door. The man waved whoever it was in, and L remained quite still as he heard two sets of footsteps being pushed gently into the room, and one larger set retreating from the now-closed door. He turned slowly, after getting a nod from Watari, and stared at the sight before him in a mixture of curiosity and awe.

There were two boys standing in front of the door, both close to the same age it seemed. The taller of the two had blonde, shoulder-length hair and icy blue eyes that showed both an obvious intelligence and a propensity for much mischief. He was dressed in all black, from his shirt to his tennis shoes, and when he spoke it was with an anxious, determined voice.

"Hello L. My name is Mello."

L merely nodded at the blonde, now turning his eyes to the other individual who was the reason for his awe. The white-haired child who had so captivated him in the hallway stared at him now with those black pools of eyes, one hand clutching a toy robot and the other twirling one strand of his short, wavy white hair. His voice was different from the blonde's, a bit colder and more distant, yet still interested.

"Near."

He smiled slightly at the boys, nodding once again and turning to Roger for an explanation. As if picking up on his curiosity, the man began to explain the situation. It did not take long.

"L, this is Mello, and um, Near. They are, as Watari mentioned, my two best pupils. Near is first, and Mello second, though they are very close. Uh...well, they are the two children we have hand-selected for you to choose from to take over if you should ever...well, you know..." Roger trailed off at this point, and L could sense he was not comfortable with the topic of his death. This was not surprising, so L just nodded.

"I see. Well, I do not know who I ought to choose, and cannot make an informed decision based only upon meeting these two. They will have to be tested, and I suppose I ought to get to know them, just a little."

Roger nodded, and gestured toward the two. "They're all yours...I hope you find what you are looking for in one of the two."

L smiled and nodded again, turning back to his successors. "Okay. Well, I suppose some basic information ought to be covered first, such as your ages, marks, and so on." He waited for one of them to speak, gesturing for either to begin a dissertation on their little life. The blonde, as L had suspected, responded first.

"Well, you know my name, Mello, I'm fourteen years old, I make all A's in classes, and my lowest test score was in Latin and it was a 90."

L acknowledged the response, and let the boy named Near begin.

"I am twelve years old, I make A's in classes, my lowest test mark, as far as I can remember, has been a 95, and my worst class would most likely be physical education."

He chuckled inwardly at this–the only sort of physical game L had ever been good at was tennis. All else was beyond him, and he had no desire to learn what was not needed to solve cases.

"Alright, that is all very good. Now, how about more personal facts about the two of you?" L didn't have to wait long, and once again Mello was the first to speak.

"I like chocolate, and sports are okay, and..um..." The blonde didn't finish his statement, merely looking down at the floor. Roger, however, managed to provide this answer.

"L...Mello has something of a history as a troublemaker here."

"Ah..." L nodded, addressing the blonde. "Well, Mello...I cannot say that I will condone an excess of violence on your part. Try to control your temper and focus on logic and reason." The boy nodded, and Near began to speak, his eyes on the floor.

"I like...puzzles, and playing with things like robots and other toys...I also like building them."

L smiled at the white-haired child. His tastes were simple, easy to manage and maintain, and he did possess some creativity beyond the cold and calculating brain he had.

"Both of you, very good. Hm...Mello, you may come with me, and Near...I will find you when it is your turn."

Near nodded, turning and leaving the room, and Mello smiled as though his greatest wish had been granted. "You mean I'm first?" L almost laughed, shrugging a little and replying to Mello as best he could. "You are the first to show me where you stay, and the first that I am talking to in private. My reasons will remain private." It wasn't a request, but something more like an order. The blonde merely nodded vigorously, trotting ahead of the detective on his way to his own room. L followed behind him, looking idly about in the faint hopes that he might spy a glimmer of white through some doorway...he would stay with the blonde until dark, and then perhaps he could make a visit to the person he truly wanted to see...

–End Flashback–

L shook the memories out of his head, recalling just how crazy he had been, how crazy meeting Near had made him. He had never told the boy of his taboo obsessions, and somehow wished that he had. Near was being held by some crazed madman, and L doubted his own skill in being able to find him. What made it worse was the fact that it was all L's fault...no one could truly hate Near, no one knew Near existed. Except that one villain. The one who had asked L specifically about his successor. The question that L had attempted to avoid, yet his silence had said so much. Too much, and now both he and Near would pay the ultimate price for the fault. As Watari pulled up the drive to Wammy's House, L turned his head to the window and let a solitary tear fall down his pale cheek.

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AN: Alright...I'm considering several different ways of doing the next few chapters. Bear with me as I finalize my plans, because once I do you'll begin seeing rapid updates, I'm sure. Thanks and don't forget to review: it makes me want to continue this depressing tale.


	4. Messages from Beyond One

Messages From "Beyond" – One

Wammy's House

The monitor lit up, waking the detective as a new window appeared on the screen: a video feed, by the looks of its file extension. The file downloaded itself onto his hard drive and began to play. A dark room appeared on-screen, what seemed to be a small apartment. At first, all that could be seen was a small mass in the center of the room – _perhaps a statue_, L noted – but after a moment there was a clapping sound; a lamp ignited, and all was revealed. The ebony-haired detective nearly fell from his chair at the sight that greeted him.

"Near."

The boy was strung up on a thick metal chain that was hooked into a bracket on the ceiling. His thin, pale frame was shivering slightly, probably from a combination of cold and exhaustion. Finally, L turned his gaze to the man – _no, monster, _he thought – standing beside his protegé. Red eyes, touseled black hair, and a grin that could only be described as that of a predator.

"Greetings, L. I won't bother with introductions: I know you remember me. Oh, and of course there's your little successor. You know, he was just sitting around in that stuffy old orphanage, waiting for you to kick the bucket so he could take your place...some prodigy he turned out to be, hm? Well, I thought I could put him to better use as my toy. You see, I want to play again: really, I want to give you a bigger challenge than...last time."

The dark-haired man was standing close enough to touch Near, and did so now, running gentle, lying fingers across the boy's porcelain skin: down his face, smoothing his wild white tresses, across that thin, fragile neck, and down his chest, touching lightly, sensually. Near squirmed, obviously uncomfortable with the situation though he remained silent, his eyes hidden from view by soft curls of white. The villain slid one pale, deft hand inside the boy's collar, opening buttons of the pure white shirt slowly, one by one. Near's trembling was more evident now, as the man walked around to his front and slid his shirt open to reveal his lean torso.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Such a pretty little toy, L...and you had him for all these years without using his _true_ potential...such a shame."

The man leaned up and nuzzled the boy's neck, falsely gentle, before leaning in and biting his neck where it joined with his collar; the bite was hard enough to draw blood. Near yelped, a pitiful sound he tried to cut off as quickly as it had started. The villain stepped back and admired his handiwork with a feral grin toward the camera, a line of blood staining his chin. He then took what looked like a razor blade and cut the shirt from Near's shoulders. At one point, the boy uttered a muffled cry, and the man laughed, pulling the now-tattered garment away to reveal a deep slash on the boy's upper left arm.

"Mm...so precious. L, I hope you're having as much fun as I am...and we've only begun: I have yet to explain my game to you. Listen closely, L, for I'll only say this once – I want you to come after me. Sure, back in L.A. I wanted to give you an unsolvable case, and that was quite my idea of fun, but this time I want you to find me. This time, there's more at stake than a few B's and Q's. So, work hard L: come and get your toy...before I break him."

The predator took the razor blade and jammed it sharply into the boy's thigh, and received a scream as a response. Then, the monitor went black.

The screen had darkened just as Watari opened the door with a tray of tea and sweets. Upon seeing his charge's face – paler than usual, with an expression of horror added into the typically enigmatic mix – he set the tray on the desk and looked into the young detective's onyx eyes.

"L...L? What's the matter?"

The younger man took a minute before responding.

"B. It's B...he's got Near, and.."

"And what, L?"

"...he wants to play."

[–Near's POV–]

I watched through my tears as the madman who was keeping me shut off the camera. It was hard to think...there was just so much pain. First my arm, but that didn't hurt so much anymore. Now it was my leg...the wound was deep, but it hadn't hit my femoral artery, for which I was lucky. I looked up finally, to see him staring at me like a tiger who hadn't eaten in days. There was nothing I could do, though...the pain still surged through me...my vision became spotty, and I could only make one sound: a pitiful plea for salvation from this personal Hell.

"L..."

* * *

A/N: Ooh, things are getting dangerous! Well, for Near, anyway...

So, I'm really sorry I haven't been working on this story as much. **But, **if it helps, I have been extremely busy. I can't tell you what I've been busy with, because that would involve personal details which aren't going to be given out. SO! On another note, if you want to see more of the story, and see it faster (this means getting to the yaoi sooner, fangirls/boys), then please REVIEW. I realize everyone wants a review, but still...they really do mean a lot. Also, if you have ideas/questions/advice, they mean even more.

One more thing...if anyone has not read "Death Note: Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases"...you won't get a lot of the background for this story. Sure, it's somewhat AU, but there is a backstory involved and if you don't read the aforementioned novel (yes, novel, not manga), you will be very much out of the loop. So...read it, or live without knowing what all is going on.

And finally (guess it was two more things)...if you have nothing else to say in a review, **wish me luck for college/scholarship stuff**. You've no clue how much it will mean to me. Thanks, and until next time...


	5. Messages from Beyond Two

Messages from Beyond -- Two

[-Near's POV-]

I woke to the sound of silence. Opening my eyes slightly, I started when I came face to face with my captor. The man leaned in toward me, leering as he laughed, that sinister cackle I had become all-too familiar with hearing. "I'm glad you decided to join me again, Near, and just in time…are you ready to play?" I resisted the urge to scowl, instead keeping my features the same mask of indifference they had always been.

"Oh, that's too bad…" he said, walking around to stand behind me. "We wouldn't want to disappoint L when it's time for the second show!" I saw the light of his camera blink on, and the "show" began…

[-Wammy's House-]

The detective stared at the monitor, as he had for the past twenty-three point seven hours. L, after steeling himself to the idea that this was still a case—just another job, and nothing more—had been concocting a plan to unravel the location of B without alerting him to the chase that was going on. He opened his Internet browser and began the necessary searches. He had gathered just enough information to begin his search when the screen went black. Suddenly, it re-lit, displaying the same dark room that had haunted him each moment since seeing it for the first time.

The light came on, and the show began.

"L…I'm mildly disappointed that you didn't already find me. Come on…surely it can't be too difficult for the world's _three_ greatest detectives?" The killer leaned around his captive, smiling at the detective through the screen.

_He's stalling..._L thought. _But for what?_

Suddenly, the man walked around Near and disappeared from view. In that moment, the white-haired teen looked up at L, and the expression on his usually expressionless face was one of complete and utter desperation. L stared in shock as the expression suddenly faded and the boy looked away, hanging limply as before. After a few seconds, the killer reappeared with a jar in his hand. He moved to stand behind Near again and spoke.

"So, L…since you seem content to sit around and let me have my way, I thought I'd take this little game to a more fun level. To have such a perfect, gorgeous little specimen in front of me and not take advantage would be ludicrous, don't you agree?" He extended a hand and placed it on Near's hip, the other grasping the jar. He leaned in, trailing gentle nips down the boy's neck before speaking again, gesturing to Near's lower body. "You know, L, I ended up making quite a mess during our last performance…that blood stain doesn't do him any justice." He set the jar down and picked up a knife, placing the tip at Near's navel and slicing through the waistband of his pajamas. He stopped, switching to cut down the sides of the boy's thigh. Near winced, and L watched helplessly as blood flowed down, further staining the white linen of Near's clothing.

The killer finished his work, discarding the pants and leaving Near exposed and flushed a deep red as he squirmed, trying to hide his nudity from the laughing man who walked again to stand behind him. He grinned at L, running his hands along the pale form before him and causing Near's blush to darken. B picked up the razor blade and stood in front of Near, facing away from the camera. He turned, smiling at the detective as he sliced into the pale boy's flesh. Near cried out, and the scene disappeared into black.

L clutched at the arms of his chair, anger tearing through his features for a moment before he composed himself and set to work. The latest video had given him a new idea, one which would require much research. He opened a search engine and typed his new query, hoping that his hunch would prove fruitful.

* * *

Okay….I realize this chapter isn't as long as I (or many other people) would've liked it to be, but it's all in setting up for what will happen next. I'm beginning to feel extremely sorry for Near, especially since I know his nightmare is nowhere near over. o.o;;;

Well, my internet at home is malfunctioning, but I'll be moving into the dorms mid-August, so another (more stable) high-speed connection will be available to me.

So, until then…live long and prosper? Haha!


	6. Messages from Beyond Three

Messages from "Beyond"—Three

-B's POV-

The killer stood back and admired his work. Where he had begun cutting during their last video together, there was now a finished design on Near's abdomen that was almost perfect in its accuracy. Sure, the child had squirmed around a bit and that had caused him to "color outside the lines" so to speak, but he wouldn't be too picky. After all, this whole plan was such a beautiful masterpiece, he could hardly be disappointed in such a fine effort.

Covering the skin from the boy's sternum all the way to his navel, and spanning the entire width of his slender torso, was an ornate and stylistic letter B.

"You look almost good enough to eat, Near.." he murmured to himself, slurping up instead some of his strawberry jam and typing a few commands on his computer. With that being completed, he stood and walked over to his victim just in time for the show to begin.

-L's POV-

The bags beneath the detective's eyes were more pronounced than ever, his complete and utter refusal to sleep giving him a slightly more deranged look than he normally wore. He had been researching for the past twelve point four-two hours, and finally he believed that he had found something. The fruits of his effort, indeed...He opened the webpage for the Merriweather Preserves Distribution Company, scanning through files and pages until he found what he was looking for: deliveries. It took him yet another hour to push through the site's meager defenses, until at last he was looking at the delivery routes for the past week in London and the surrounding area. Any anomalies would do…he knew B's diet consisted solely of the jam, and after freeze-framing his last video and capturing the jam jar's logo, it had been fairly simple to locate the company that distributed the treat.

L continued looking over the list until he'd found it: somewhere in the brownstone apartments just above Bates Street was an order for 50 units. Not unusual for a family business or bakery, but in a residential sector it looked quite suspicious. He managed to acquire the address and the invoice for the jam-buyer, smiling slightly as he saw it was indeed an apartment; he'd worried about it being a postal box, but then again, B did want to be found…

As though the thought of his nemesis could summon him, the computer screen went black and then turned into the video feed that L both despised and anxiously awaited—despised because he couldn't imagine the pain Near had already gone through, and awaited because at least he would see Near alive one more time. The room lit up, and L gasped at the torture Near had obviously endured since the last video, the horrific drawing that had been scrawled over his stomach like some kind of macabre graffiti. "B.." he said with a measure of hatred in his tone, a cold sort of loathing that threatened each moment to turn into an uncontrollable fury.

"Welcome back, L, to our little show…I'm afraid your plaything's stamina is not as high as I had hoped…it's never as much fun to prey upon the weak, but oh well. What I mean is that our show is coming into its final act, and of course you know what that means—the curtain falls for the last time on dear, precious Near. But don't worry, I've given him quite the finale, one I'm sure the sicker parts of even your mind are sure to enjoy…" With that being said, the villain moved to place his hand on the other's hips and pulled, causing the white-haired boy to groan in pain that was placed on his already-strained arms and shoulders. "Hm…still not low enough—ah, I have an idea," he said happily, walking off-camera for just a moment before bringing back a long, low box made of dark wood. "This was just laying out by the street corner…amazing what people will leave lying around, waiting to be taken," he said with a heavy sort of meaning in his words. He smiled at the camera as he laid the box on the floor at Near's feet, which were still around four inches from touching its surface. B, however, simply climbed up on the box and found himself at a wonderful new vantage point. "Ah, this will be the perfect angle…don't you think so, L? You know, Near seems oh so innocent, despite his secret affections…I wonder if there will be blood..?" He smiled cruelly as he spoke. "Hah, what am I saying…innocent or not, you can't go wrong with blood."

The killer picked up the rope from beside his computer, returning to the "stage" and unwinding the coil to show it was actually two separate ropes. He tied one to each of Near's ankles, looping them through the metal rings on either side of his box and pulling them taut so the boy's legs were in an upside-down "V". "Perfect…" he murmured, grinning with unhidden malice. "Almost perfect…"

He retrieved the knife from his belongings, walking back to Near and standing behind him on the box. He wrapped his arms around the youth's waist, one hand lovingly stroking his bloody design while the other wandered a bit lower with the knife. He trailed the dull edge of the blade over Near's length, then back up before turning the blade in his hand and making a cut down over one hip-bone. "Hm…symmetry is a good thing, I think," he said quietly as he made an identical cut on the opposite hip. "He's quivering so much…I think he's almost ready, L," the maniac chuckled softly. "Now for a little…preparation.."

* * *

A/N: Next chapter will be my last, and it will also be uploaded tonight. Thanks and hope you liked this one! Technically, the latest B message isn't over, but I had to split up the chapter or else it would have been HUGE. Wall-of-text...do not want!


	7. The Grand Finale

The Grand Finale

-Near's POV-

Lights. Camera. Action.

The stage was set, the script was thrown out the window, the director was practically bouncing with excitement, and the star was paralyzed with fear. From an external perspective, it seemed like any slightly-dysfunctional production.

From Near's perspective, it was hell.

He had long ago stopped pleading for L to come and save him, resigning himself to the fact that the detective just didn't care. After all, he could simply use Mello as his first successor: problem solved. No, Near was beyond begging for salvation, beyond hoping for survival, beyond praying for some measure of relief. Simply put, he was Beyond…the killer had infiltrated his every defense, realizing that physical pain was not enough to break him. He had played with his affections for L, to the point that Near almost became aroused at the sight of his kidnapper. Physical pleasures the prodigy had forever denied himself were suddenly within his reach…for a price. The pain was the price, and Near hated to admit that he was almost ready to pay it. On the other hand, there was that small part of Near that held onto what he'd always been taught, that there was no hopeless situation. That justice triumphed over evil in the end. That L could and would save him, at all costs…that part was so very small, and dying with each hour he spent in B's clutches.

When he felt the knife slide across his member, he tried not to respond, but still he couldn't help a tiny whimper that made its way from between his lips. The cuts to his hips didn't bother him at all—he had endured so much worse. What came next, though, was to be torture in the purest sense of the word.

-B's POV-

The knife switched hands in the blink of an eye—B was an expert, certainly—and immediately disappeared into the boy's body. The scream that resulted brought a grin of pleasure to the villain's features, a laugh that hardly sounded human tearing from his throat at the sound of the child screeching in agony. "Oh, Near…it can't be that bad..right?" he asked, punctuating his question with a twist of the knife and therefore another howl of pain from the previously emotionless boy. "Hah…I can't tell you how good it is to have our little nearly-mute star finally come into his role! And you're playing it so perfectly, Near.." The last words were whispered into the boy's ear, which B took the opportunity to promptly assault with teeth and tongue before resting his chin on Near's arm to look at the camera, at L. "So, L…are you ready for the final number? It's magnificent, I assure you, and is only preceded by this little soliloquy so I can give it a properly grand introduction. You see, L, my grand finale is the moment in which I take everything that is yours. Everything…and I make it mine. Near's ready—I've made my adjustments," he said as he pushed the knife deeper to the sound of a pained whimper, "and I've set my stage. All there is left to do is to take him for my own…" He smirked into the camera, the look of a cold-blooded killer without mercy and without a soul. "It's really too bad you couldn't find me, L…I had wanted this act to be more up close and personal, you know. I wanted you to watch, in person, as I took your toy and broke it into pieces so infinitesimally small you would never be able to put him back together." He shrugged as though none of it really mattered, taking the knife and yanking it hard so it dislodged from Near's most personal area. The blood spilled freely on the ground, Near's eyes rolling back in his head as he shook from the intense pain and the loss of so much blood. "Oh well…beggars can't be choosers," he said as with surprisingly dexterous movements he opened his tattered, blood-stained jeans and brutally took what was now his.

Wammy's House

Watari sighed softly, closing his eyes and, for the first time in a long time, whispering a short prayer for his protégé. He turned off the computer and walked to the window, watching for the tail lights of a black sedan that had long disappeared into the streets of London.

-Near's POV-

The pain…there was so much..and the blood…so much of everything, really, everything except L and where was he? Somewhere on an important case, probably, just filing away the videos for future evidence against yet another murderer…Near's case wasn't that important, and it was rather easy to solve. The charges were simple enough: kidnapping, rape, murder. The culprit wouldn't be too difficult to locate, knowing L, and the sick desire of the future accused to be found by his look-alike. Near began thinking of all the various steps that would be needed to solve his own case, but his mind was just like the broken pieces of one of his beloved puzzles…and he couldn't put it back together. It was gone: the analyses, the theorems, the lists and charts and histories and languages…everything was gone. All that was left was the wish to die, which was sure to happen soon enough if B's actions up to this point were anything to go by.

The next thing Near's mind focused on was L. His idol, his mentor, perhaps even his first love, albeit unrequited…L was also the one who had not come to save him. His eyes were open, he thought, but he wasn't seeing anything. His ears could hear in the distance some animal-like screams of pain, though he wasn't even sure if they were his own. He could even feel his body shaking, being viciously invaded again and again and straining against his bonds with the force of his captor's movements. L was nowhere to be found. With his hopes completely gone, the small part that had been shining a light of signal for the great detective to come and rescue him from this purgatory well and truly dead, Near closed his eyes and accepted death as it came…so close..

-L's POV-

The apartments were dark at this time of night, and L had no trouble locating the correct building from the map he had looked at earlier on his computer. He ran toward the third building from the left, bare feet hitting the ground almost silently as he hurried towards Near and hoped he wasn't too late. He ran through hallways and up stairs, finally hearing the muffled sound of horrific screams coming from the end of the third-floor hall. He rushed in that direction, finding the source of the noise after a few pauses to listen at various doors, and raised his leg to kick down the door. To his surprise, the door had already been unlocked and left not-quite closed, so it simply swung open to reveal the "grand finale" of the other's plan and the most enraging scene the great detective had ever seen in his entire life.

"Oh good—you came," said the killer, but L wasn't listening. He was shaking slightly, suddenly feeling all that icy hatred burst open and become consumed by the fires of rage. He ran forward, grabbing B by his black hair and pulling him to the side, trying to get him off of Near. As soon as he detached from the boy's limp body, though, the villain snarled and aimed a kick at L's head, switching suddenly from all play to all business. It was serious now, and L wasn't about to lose to his rival. Not again. The detective grabbed an empty jar from the supply that littered the floor, throwing it at the other's head and huffing with frustration when it was caught so easily and discarded. He next attempted to rush at B and grab his throat, but found himself on the ground in a matter of seconds with the killer straddling him, pulling a fist back for a direct punch. L curled his body, using his head to knock the other off and landing atop his nemesis, his hands around the pale and blood-streaked throat. "Enough.." he growled softly. "Enough…" he repeated slightly louder, using one hand to tug at B's hair and repeatedly hit his head against the floor. He could hear the half-human sounds coming from the other man, sounds of something pitiful being murdered viciously, but he didn't care one bit. Just as he saw the whites of B's eyes as they rolled back into his head, he was pushed gently off of the prone form of the killer and landed on the floor, shaking slightly. Roger pulled out a set of handcuffs, placing B's hands behind his back and securing him to the radiator in the corner of the room. "L…it's over. Get Near, we're going home," he said quietly, dusting himself off and walking out to ready the car.

L stood, shaking as he looked at the bare and battered form of his successor. "N-Near…" he breathed like a prayer of desperation, his eyes becoming cloudy with tears as he walked over and looked up at the limp form. He placed two fingers gently at the boy's wrist, thanking all that was holy as he felt a slight pulse. Now all that was left was to get Near back to Wammy's and get him to the infirmary. He found the key to the handcuffs placed near the computer, untying the ropes from his ankles first before reaching up and releasing the cuffs. As Near came tumbling into his arms, he wrapped his lean arms around the skeletal form and held him close. "I won't let this happen again, Near…I promise," he said softly, walking out with the boy in his arms.

* * *

A/N: Wonder what happened to Beyond Birthday? How about Near? L? L and Near? I'll be posting up an epilogue very soon that may or may not lead into another story, with a couple you might not expect.

I would like to thank everyone for all their support in reading and reviewing my story, and I apologize for all the waiting I've put you through with this story. Finally…it's done. There's not much else to say, except I'm also sorry for the crappy fight scene XD I've never been good at that sort of thing, so yeah…it sucks. Oh well, better luck next time! Thanks again, and I hope to see you soon with more fan fiction.


	8. Epilogue: Into the Dawn

Five Minutes to Midnight

_Epilogue: Into the Dawn_

[Four months later]

-L's POV-

L walked up the steps to Wammy's House, carrying with him a small white box with a black ribbon tied around the middle. He opened the front door and entered quietly, realizing that most of the children would be asleep at this hour. Most of them. He headed toward the first floor common room, peeking around the corner and smiling just slightly as he saw the very child he'd been looking for. "Near," he murmured softly, walking in and kneeling on the carpet in front of the small white-haired boy who was playing with a small robot-like action figure. "Near," he repeated, frowning as he wasn't acknowledged by the younger even after calling his name twice. He reached out slowly, placing his hand on the other's shoulder in the barest of touches. The reaction was immediate-the boy flinched, pulling away quickly. "What is it, L..?" he asked softly, his voice one of complete monotone revealing no emotion whatsoever. L sighed, laying the white box on the ground and standing. "I brought something for you…it's not much, but I hope you will enjoy it." He walked to the door, turning to regard the child who had not looked up since he came in the room and was still seemingly occupied with his robot.

"Near…I'm going away for awhile, to work on a case.." he said quietly, his eyes betraying the emotion that his face could not; the loneliness, the sadness, the continued regret for not reaching Near in time to truly save him. He walked back toward the boy, stopping a few feet from him as he remembered the issue of distance. "I am still very sorry, Near…I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you needed me most, and that I couldn't protect you like I should have. I know it doesn't change anything, but…I've always been fond of you.." he trailed off, walking back to the door and staring out into the dark hallway. "..my Near…" he whispered, walking out of the room and out of the young child's life, back out into the world that felt the need to constantly remind him that there aren't always happy endings.

It had been nearly half a year since that time, that experience, that nightmare; still, he couldn't forget it. The scars, both mental and physical, wouldn't let him. He couldn't walk properly now, his left leg being slightly weaker than his right, and if one were to open the thin white pajamas he always wore, an enormous calligraphic B would be easily visible on his torso, forever branding him as nothing more than the property of a madman. He had been subjected to the most torturous experiences like no one could ever believe, and yet had been dragged back from the edge of a peaceful death into a life that didn't want him. It had never been the same after that…he couldn't look at L the same way, without imagining that the black-velvet eyes that had previously comforted him happened to have a reddish tint to them, or that perfectly emotionless face bore a wicked smirk. Since waking up in the orphanage's infirmary, he had not once spoken to L without being asked to…he just couldn't. L had been his mentor, his big-brother figure, his first love…but now he was just a painful memory of what had happened not too long ago.

L was leaving. Where, he didn't know, nor for how long, but it seemed like something semi-permanent. He wasn't coming back…that meant he wouldn't be there to remind Near of the horrors of the past, but it also meant that his first love was finally leaving him, for good.

L was leaving.

L was gone.

He reached out and pulled the black satin ribbon away from the box, slowly lifting the small parcel into his lap and lifting its lid. The gift inside was a simple, white puzzle, a miniature of the one he had received long ago with the black "L" in the corner. The pieces were much smaller as well, the puzzle more complex, and he could make out some black parts on a few of the pieces. Taking those particular bits out of the box, he began to put them together. Finally the corner was completed, and on it was formed a calligraphic N, for Near. He wiped away a drop of water from the puzzle, wiping his sleeve across the letter before bringing it to his face and doing the same. Hearing a noise at the doorway, he lifted his head and revealed his tear-stained face to the dawn.

* * *

A/N: Sorry to all those who expected a happy ending (if anyone actually expected that...). I'll be uploading a new story sometime soon, whenever midterms are through and I can sort of relax into my hectic schedule. Thank you again, so very much, for reading this story, and even more thanks go to those who took time from their days to review. Your care is appreciated more than you know. So, until next time...

みんなさん、さよなら。


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